


Faking It

by InsominiacArrest



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), CraigxTweek episode, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hooking up, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:12:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5166797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsominiacArrest/pseuds/InsominiacArrest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Craig and Tweek after all these years are still 'dating,' they hang out in Tweek's room, they talk, they kiss, it's pretty gay</p><p>follow up: someone posts a poll on 'who tops?' and Tweek has an answer to that</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fake as Margarine

Craig reached for his hand mechanically,

“Gah,” Tweek twitched and flinched his hand away when Craig touches it, “we’re broken up right now man.”

“Oh,” Craig retracted his hand, “I forgot… Was this the fucking one where you said I gave you herpes?”

“No. This was, gah, all you man, you wanted to date, try to date, Heidi and so you set up the whole thing where I was ruining your grades or," he twitches, "whatever.”

“Shit. Right.” Craig put his hands in his pocket and tried to remember what they did during ‘the break up periods’ again.

They decided over the years to break up and got back together like clockwork, keep the town engaged.

“Are you still gonna do it?”

He looked up at Tweek as they walked home, “Do what?”

“Go after Heidi.” He scowled.

“Oh. Right.” He kicked a can, “nah, she tried to strangle Bebe a week ago over some occult shit, too much drama right now.”

“Oh…” Tweek looked off into space. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, well, it probably wouldn’t have worked, I read her CraigxTweek coffee shop AU and it was absolute shit.” 

Tweek laughed shallowly, “dude. I can't believe you're still reading the shit they write about us. I read Randy's omega AU and couldn't sleep for a fucking month."

Craig grins, "you don't sleep anyway, dick." He kicks him.

He flinches and Craig snickers.

He eyes Craig when they slow down at the end of the block. "I do actually work in a coffee shop though. That's uh, a real thing.” 

“No. But like it was a different coffee shop and you were sarcastic and butch.” Craig says offhandedly. 

Tweek grinned, “I like those ones.”

“Whatever.” They pause at Tweek’s front door as they reach his house.

“Do you want to come in?”

Craig looked around blankly, “no one’s here.”

Tweek fidgeted, “you know, just ‘cause.”

Craig shrugged, “sure, why not, you have the new X-box game?”

“Nah, my parents took it away after the breakup, but I’ve got some new computer games upstairs.”

He lifts an eyebrow, “Principle PC?”

“He gave me fifty bucks after the school dance.”

“Nice.” Craig nodded, “we’re getting better at this.”

He gave a small smile, “we were always pretty good at it.”

They made it up to Tweek's room, it was an absolute mess, you couldn’t blame Craig for picking up some of that shit. He put some clothes away and then cleared a space for himself on the floor.

Tweek watched him carefully.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He went to his computer and turned it on, “want some coffee?” He offered, “it’s got like half the cocaine in it after that police raid.”

“Ha. Ha.” Craig couldn’t tell if he’s joking, “maybe from the Starbucks, your dad’s sucks.”

Tweek twitched, “I should have some lying around actually.”

“Oh my God.” Craig could tell he probably had every brand of coffee spread around but he laid out on the floor anyway. Craig starts piling some of the cans in the trash methodically.

Tweek went back to his computer, sipping his drink and Craig took out a Cosmos magazine and started rereading it. It was pleasant. Or at least not terrible to just be in the room together. They frequently break into talking about their homework or Freshmen science.

“Ms. Mccarthy is such bullshit.”

“Guh, she sang about the planets today,” he commented tersely.

“And added pluto. Bullshit.”

Tweek tilts his head, “That counts man.”

“No. Hell no.”

They argue about pluto, Craig wins by literally pulling up a picture of Texas and comparing the two.

“Alright, alright,” he says more comfortably, sometimes he stopped twitching, “pluto’s not a planet.”

“Damn straight.”

They lull into a silence, staring at each other across the room, “do you want to practice your school play try out thing on me?” Craig offers lowly, saying something where he felt he was obligated to.

Tweek crawled onto the floor, inching up next to him, “not really.”

“Yeah. You’ll do fine.” He looks up at the ceiling blankly.

“We should practice for getting back together.” Tweek announces.

“Seriously? I think we’ve got it down by now.”

Tweek’s hands shook from the caffeine, “I need a new bike.”

“Right.”

“So we should make it good.”

“I can,” he takes a deep breath, “do that.”

Tweek smells like earth and some sort of perfume he wore to ward off the underwear gnomes. Which were 100% real for some reason.

Tweek leans in, “close your eyes.”

“Dude, no one’s even around, we don’t need to practice that part.”

“Whatever.” Tweek leans backwards, crossing his arms, “your pretty shit at it anyway.”

“What? No way. I am an expert. I read like ten magazines for that first one.”

“Yeah, and it was like kissing card board. You suck at faking it man. We’re lucky anyone believed it.”

Craig goes red in the face, righteously pissed off, "I'm freaking great at it."

"No fucking way." 

“Alright, alright, close your eyes.” Tweek hesitated and looks around nervously, of course he did, but stopped shaking for a moment when Craig bent down.

He presses his mouth to him, softly at first and then harder, trying to move his lips so it was not ‘cardboard.’

He’s hot and tasted like an entire espresso in one shot glass. He reaches behind him for the small of his back to lower him to the floor.

He moves his mouth back and forth, kissing him on the ground with his body pressing down on top of his. He shakes slightly underneath him, but pushes up into Craig, mouth wet and frantic.

He dips his tongue into his mouth, and pins him further to the ground. He feels something dizzy and hot in his head…and pants.

“Wait, wait.” Tweek finally gasps and Craig backs up.

“Told you I was good.” 

“Sure.” Tweek nods frenziedly and lifts a pillow onto his lap. Craig wishes he could do the same.

They pause and stare at each other, flatly, tensely, cheeks red and breath panting in time. Craig breaks into a small smile and looks at the ceiling.

“It’s good thing we’re 100% straight or else this would be really gay.”

Tweek breaks into a full bodied laugh,

“Shut up.”

They go back to hanging out in his room, Craig’s lips keep stinging and his eyes are drawn to an article about what 'real' meant.


	2. Statistics from Fox News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the town of south park is still way too involved in a random romance: the sequel

“I could be a top if I wanted to.” Tweek was shaking and someone was playing their iPod too loud as they scrambled to finish their fifth-period algebra at the table next to them. The scratching of the pencil against paper made him squirm in place.

“Of course you could babe,” Craig was staring down at his phone as he tapped on it. The cafeteria was particularly empty for that off period, Tweek pulled at his shirt.

“That poll was just, ugh, not,” Tweek struggled with something as he tried to pull out some right words out of all the other yelling in his thoughts.

“You know that the Juniors were just fucking with us.” Craig reached out and pet his hair absently, Tweek leans toward it thoughtlessly, eyes almost closing at the touch.

“It was anonymous,” he scowls off into nothing, someone hangs up a poster for Cat STD awareness across the hall. “It could be any one of these jokers, erg.” He feels his eyes twitch.

Craig runs his free hand through Tweek’s hair again, he knew his weakness, “they’re just bored, half the school broke up last fall after the divide over if dudes should have to buy tampons or not.”  
  
“God that was stupid,” Tweek says with a little scoff, “honestly, they just need fucking better things to do.”  
  
Craig glances over at him and they share a small smile, “they’ll work it out. Or get distracted by Stan and those guys making the FBI put the school in a biodome or some shit.”

Tweek snickers, before feeling his fingers shake, “what would we do for food?”  
  
“Joke babe,” He feels the soft touch again and Tweek releases his bunched shoulders.

“But how would we get air-”  
  
“There are no biodomes coming.”  
  
“Right right,” his thoughts race a little through the scene anyway. He would murder a 9th grader for Craig. He pushes that down (for now).

Tweek sighs and glances over at him, “but I _could_ be a top.” He frowns at the poll on his phone that was anonymously posted on the school online bulletin board last night.

 

VOTES ARE IN

Craig tops: 92%

Kenny is the school hottie: 66%

Percent who Took The Pledge to never date Eric Cartman again: 87%

Bebe shot that clown last December: 44%

 

The list went on but Tweek’s eyes were still drawn to the very top one. It had the highest agreement level of any category on the list.

Craig was watching him, “Babe, you don’t know if it was just Eric voting for the same thing over and over again. People don’t care that much.”

Tweek murmured to himself and tugged at his hair, “you know they gave me free tickets to see the Nuggets after we kissed under the mistletoe that one time? They care.”  
  
They chuckle among themselves and Craig reaches for his phone to make the screen go dark, “see? It’s just-”  
  
“BULLSHIT.”  
  
They both freeze and hear a door swinging open at the opposite side of the cafeteria, Tweek can hear Craig groaning next to him. The doors bang on each side and one angry looking boy stares across the room at them.

Tweek looks both ways in hopes that Cartman is looking at something behind them.

“Bullshit! Did you see this Craig-Tweek?" He holds something up in the air, "this is putting the gays back a decade, right guys?" He looks all around the room, "I demand to know who ran this poll.” 

Token was the first to disentangle himself from the table next to them to put his hands up, “The admin already took the thing down, so we-"  
  
“Not that,” Cartman says as he expectedly made a scene for their off period that day. He shakes the phone in the air, “Tweek is the top.”  
  
Tweek’s eyes go wide and Craig covers his face in exasperation.

He frowns slightly, “Uh, right.” He murmurs to himself but Cartman was stalking back and forth across the floor.

“The people don’t know the facts, it’s fucking sick. Sick! That kids will believe anything these days,” he shakes the phone again, “fake news!”

“Calm down Eric, jesus,” Kyle appeared like an apparition at Cartman’s side, ready to brawl like it was any other Tuesday and this was his calling. “It was done by google doc, Jessy from the journalism club checked it. It's not fake news."

“Yeah, just accept the results,” Stan was turning around in his seat, “Craig obviously has height and personality on his side, look at the data.”  
  
“Hey, just look at them.” Kyle Broflovski was not helpful.  
  
His lanky boyfriend drew himself up a little taller as eyes darted in their direction, Tweek scowls at them all individually, it wasn’t his fault Craig shot up like a flip book stick figure made with a limited number of sticky notes. And Tweek stayed, Tweek.

“Fake, fucking fake news dude,” Cartman was drawing up what looked like a chart, “Tweek is a wild card. He’s always five coffees away from becoming a beast. You’re all delusional.” A small ruckus broke out as several people tried to talk at once.

“Come on,” Cindy from biology sipped on her juice box, “that’s not even taking into consideration volume, pitch and volume of texts. Can Tweek drive?”  
  
“I can!” He contributes quickly, “sometimes.”

“We already drew this up,” Wendy was taking out a lighter pointer, “the mass times maturity, added with their respective D&D player choices-”  
  
“ARG!” He went to stand up.  
  
“The unequivocal belt choice-”  
  
Tweek could feel his temperature rising like a kettle, he’s about to make a counterpoint to his chest width diagram when he felt a hand slip into his own.

“Come on,” Tweek is torn between participating in the annual city-wide Creak discussion before he feels himself being pulled away to the hall. “Take a deep breath.”  
  
“I’m fine, breathing, breathing,” He says with a little twitch and frown at Craig’s back. He smelled like ax body spray and smoke, Tweek takes a deep breath.  
  
“There just being their usual annoying.” Craig grumbles flatly.

"Could they do it differently though," he narrows his eyes, "I'm tough."  
  
"I know honey."

Tweek opens his mouth to bring up their third grade smack down when someone calls out to them again.

  
“Hey!” Jimmy waves at them from across the way, “can we get a comment for the paper? What’s your take? Does Craig go directly to sleep once he finishes the jackhammering or plowcat move?”  
  
“Not, no, neither. What even,” Tweek licks his lips as he sputters.  
  
“The screwdriver then perhaps?” Jimmy had his pencil out.

“We have to go to the gym,” Craig says stiffly as Tweek sees the vein in Craig’s temple rise, his tell. He squeezes his hand a little.

Craig leads them past a group of people moving to get to their fifth period or ask them ‘questions’ about their love, they are barely able to dodge them and get through the locked gym door. Tweek exhales as they creep into the lit room and behind the bleachers of the empty basketball court.

He heard Craig take a deep breath, “I need a smoke.”

“I need a coffee,” they both sigh in tandem.

Tweek blinks up at a graffiti scrawl of ‘smoke weed ereryday’ on the back of the steps and cocks his head to the side. He curls up on himself slightly and stares back at Craig.

“Do you think we should mix it up a bit?” He offers with a small tremor in his hands as he held his knees to his chest, “the usual.”

“No,” Craig says forcefully, scowling slightly, “this’ll pass. It’s just dumb crap as always.”  
  
Tweek nods shortly, studying him, “It’s uh, it’s just been a while.”  
  
Craig was looking back at him now, a slit of light splashed across his face like a streak of fiery meteor tail.

Craig sits back, “Some poll shouldn’t mean we do the whole break up pageant again.”  
  
“I just mean,” Tweek makes a thinking noise, his hand crawls across the floor slowly, “it’s been awhile.”  
  
Craig sniffs dryly, “why should we?” He hums, “we shouldn’t have to… We don’t need to do it cause, yeah,” he looked off into the distance, “we don’t need to do it.”

Tweek pauses to smile slightly, “okay.” He relaxes and leans his head on his shoulder. “I don’t want to either.”  
  
He could see Craig grin, “good.”

“But," he says briskly, "I better not see the ‘twink’ thing trending by my name next.”  
  
Craig runs a hand down his back and he shivers slightly, more than usual at least.

“Does it really matter?” He says flatly.

“I mean-”

“We’re not gonna know.” He grip becomes more strong as his hand clenches in Tweek’s shirt. “It’s not like we’re going to fuck in front of the town.” Craig’s hand was on the back of his neck now, holding it. " _We're not_ ," Craig repeats as Tweek looks at him.  
  
“I wasn’t going to suggest that,” he says back roughly. “I just mean...well, I guess we won’t know," he pauses tentatively, "will we?"  
  
They glance at each other for a long moment, eyes meeting in the dim stillness of the empty gym. The slash of light cut across his face and the dusty air settles like a descending anvil.

Tweek licks his lips, his eyes dart down as he tilts forward and Craig hovers closer, “will we?”

He’s leaning up and Craig is kissing him, mouth finding his forcefully, pushing him back and wrapping his arms around him, an electric pulse goes through his tingling nerves as he nips at his lips.

The kiss bruises his mouth with a sharp force, almost hurried and needy in its movements right away. It chases his frantic thoughts away like a Loony Tunes cartoon where the roadrunner buzzes into nonexistence. Tweek tilts his head back and Craig winds an arm around his waist and eases him down.  
  
Tweek pants for a moment, Craig nips his jawline and he squirms in place. “I’m not sure this will help,” he pants, “things.”

“That’s fine,” Craig kisses him roughly before threading his fingers through his hair, guiding him flat on the floor. “The 92% didn’t really bother me.” Tweek laughs.  
  
“Well it wouldn’t bother you!” He pouts slightly as Craig looms over him, “that role is the tough guy primo of like… all acting.”

“Acting?” Craig says the word like he was reading it out of book for the first time and trying to pronounce every syllable. Acting.

“Yeah. For the uh, the us man.”

“I know,” Craig is looking at with an even consideration. He’s looking back.

Tweek shrugs, his eyes were lidded, the white of his eyes flashing at him. Tweek props himself up, “but I guess we won’t know.”

He shakes his head slightly and Tweek is pressing up as he pulls him up into another heady kiss. He arches into him as Craig probes his mouth, his hand wandering up his side and they came together like they wanted to crawl into each other’s skin.

His breath becomes short ragged as Craig’s moves his way down, mouth taking it’s time painting potholes across his throat and down his chest.

He starts to feel the white buttons on his shirt come undone, he lifts his eyebrows as Craig takes the last one off, “I see.”  
  
"You always had a thing for taking your shirt off when we were kids,” Craig kisses his chest again.

Tweek twitches slightly, “And is that something a twink would do, huh?”  
  
Craig laughs and reaches up to cradle his face, “I don’t think you want me to answer that.”  
  
He manages a laugh, “just between us then.” He shakes a little with a wink, “I’ll accept the part.”

He feels a hand place itself on his knee and spread his legs apart easily. “Like I said,” he kisses his stomach, “I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

Tweek arches as he kisses his hip bone and runs his finger down his clothed thighs, tracing the seam there and using his other hand to pet his exposed skin. He gasps slightly and Craig makes his way back up to his mouth to kiss the sound, Tweek opens his legs further for him.

Craig inserts himself in between his thighs and put his arms behind his head and back. He bites his ear as Tweek moans into the pressure coming from his boyfriend up against him.

“Oh,” he twitches, “oh man.”  
  
Craig runs his hands down his sides, "You okay? Telling you to relax probably won't help, right?"  
  
Tweek wraps his arms around Craig’s neck and gives him a growing smile, “it might not help you.” He rolls his hips slowly over Craig’s crotch as he wraps his legs around his back. Craig stifles a deep groan. His pupils are huge as they come together.

They both moan and start a very uneven rhythm that mostly involved trying to rub up against each other like dogs in heat. It’s fast and dreamlike, Tweek feels the cold of the wooden gym floor against his back contrast to Craig’s burning skin up against his.

They roll into each other’s movements and Tweek feels something heady and sweet and thoroughly pushed open throughout his system. He lets Craig pin him down as he kisses him from above and rubs him raw and whining.

Craig holds him in place with his weight and Tweek watches his eyes roll back into his head with a silent gasp.

“Oh,” Tweek claws desperately at Craig’s back as he feels the other boy forcefully thrust into the soft pivot of his groan. He calls out wordlessly as the friction licks every inch of him and he arches off the floor.

Colors pop behind his eyes and reality becomes a muffled memory as he calls out in a brief bright high.

“Fuck,” he vibrates and Craig collapses on top of him. They both pant and Craig goes to hold his hand as they lie breathlessly on the floor. “Fuck.” He says it again.

 The world is quiet and dark for a long moment as a red easy feeling oozes off him.

They roll over before Craig takes his hat off and they both sit up and stare each other in a daze before trying to sort out their clothes again. Tweek adjusts himself in his pants and pushes his sweaty bangs back.

He laughs dryly as he looks up at the ‘smoke weed ereryday’ sign, that was one way place to hook up with your boyfriend for the first time.

He brushes his jeans off, “This was one way to resolve that."  
  
He feels a chapped peck on his cheek, surprisingly open for any Craig gesture, he touches the spot warmly.

“Well, I was hoping we wouldn’t fake break up over some poll,” Craig says plainly.

Tweek returns the gesture and kisses him back on the cheek, “If you don’t tell anyone.” He closes his eyes and leans on him, “then we can make our own fake news. See what the rest of the polls say.”

Craig whistles and Tweek punches him softly in the arm, “you know what I mean.”

“Isn’t that counter to everything we’ve been doing,” Craig rubs a circle in Tweek’s exposed hipbone.  
  
Tweek shrugs, “depends on what we’re doing." He thought about the word real not for the first time as they stare at each other.

They end up curling up together in a warm sleepy silence until the last bell rang.


End file.
